


Can't Hold a Candle

by FrenchRoast



Category: Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms, Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Dragons, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 06:35:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7924321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrenchRoast/pseuds/FrenchRoast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ouat Positivity Gift Exchange gift for ethereal-wishes<br/>Her prompts: Rumplestiltskin was cursed to be a dragon and is terrorizing Snow White’s kingdom. Snow hires Lady Belle, a notorious dragon slayer to rid them of the problem, but she discovers their dragon isn’t really a dragon./Any fairy tale retelling you wish, including Rumbelle. </p><p>I hope you like this! It's inspired by the prompts above, and is also a partial retelling of the fairy tale <i>Serpentin Vert</i> by Marie Catherine d'Aulnoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Once upon a time, there was a brave lady who lived in the tower of the Castle of Avonlea. Her father was king of Avonlea, but princessery was not the only thing that interested her—in fact, nearly everything else did. She read voraciously, and observed others scrupulously. As her father’s sole child, this lady convinced him to allow her to learn not only in the things she would need to know as a lady, but also weaponry, diplomacy, hunting, and the other skills a son would have been taught. Her name was Belle.

In short order, Belle grew especially skilled with swords and daggers, but after a couple of years, she also grew tired of practicing only with her royally-approved instructor and his squire.

“What good is it knowing how to use a sword if I’m never allowed to do anything with it?” Belle demanded of her father one day after he refused to permit her to leave the castle with the men hunting for a local bandit.

“It’s too dangerous, Belle. I won’t have my only daughter fighting amongst grown men, no matter what Sir Livre says you’re capable of.” The king, unbeknownst to Belle, was in an exceptionally foul mood, preoccupied with the news that his new wife was ill. This was not the first argument he’d had with his daughter over her masculine proclivities, and he had already asked his advisors what to do. Some of them, eager to put the princess in her place, had proposed especially drastic options.

“I’m not asking to go to war, Papa, I’m just-“

“You are the Princess of this kingdom, and princesses do not brawl. I never should have countenanced this nonsense in the first place.”

“But I-“

“Enough!” The king’s voice boomed throughout the great hollow hall. His face had grown scarlet-sweaty from frustration. “I indulged your wishes because on her deathbed, your mother—my first love—begged me to let you be free to choose your path. But she would not have wanted you to endanger yourself,” he tried to explain. “I see now, my acquiescence in this was a mistake, born though it was out of love.”

The king called for one of his advisors as well as Sir Livre to be brought to the hall. Both men arrived quickly. After a hushed conversation with his advisor, who left the hall with some speed, the king turned to address the Royal Weapons Instructor to the Princess, who now stood before him.

“Sir Livre, you have done nothing wrong, but your services are henceforth no longer desired.” The king’s treasurer handed Sir Livre a considerable purse of gold, and both were dismissed, despite the princess’s protestations.

“Father, you can’t do this,” she said as she watched her instructor, who had been like a father to her for the last decade, exit the hall. Several guards who had been waiting on the other side came into the room, which was now empty save for Belle and the King.

“Your impudence caused this, Belle. Besides, Sir Livre has taught you all he knew; you no longer need him.”  

As the door of the hall closed, Belle turned back to look at her father. “I will train on my own,” she said, defiant.

The king sighed. “It was my great hope you would not say as much,” he replied, “but I am not surprised, either.”

He signaled his guards, who carried Belle to her room in the tower. The king followed as they made their way to the door at the base of the tower. Behind the door, Belle could see piles of food and wood stood stacked next to the stairs.

A scream erupted from her as she realized what was about to happen. She was furious, and the wrath Belle felt only swelled as she fought half a dozen guards, all in vain, trying to escape the inevitable. The fight seemed to last for hours, though it was at most a few minutes of scuffling. In the end, the guards had to throw the princess through the doorway and rush to bolt it shut before she could stand back up. Her father turned the key in the lock himself, and they walked away, silent, as Belle’s rageful howls began and lasted well through the night. When she could no longer speak, she pounded on the door until her knuckles were shredded and bloody.

No one answered her pleas.

Belle knew that escape was impossible; the tower she had made into her bedroom years ago for the sake of solitude had once served as a prison. A prison no one had ever escaped from, not until her mother married her father and convinced him to convert it into the castle’s library. Belle shared her mother’s love of books, and it was that connection to her mother that had swayed her father when Belle had begged him to turn it into her chambers as a child.

Now, her most cherished part of the castle was once again a prison. A royal one.

Weeks, fortnights, months passed. Fresh food and other supplies a royal princess need showed up at the bottom of the stairs periodically, always while Belle slept, no matter how strange the hour she kept. She trained zealously, in body and in mind. ‘There will be an opening, some way for me to leave eventually,” she assured herself.

At times, Belle worried the only way she would leave the tower would be if she leapt through the window, but she had no desire to do that. There wasn’t enough fabric to fashion an adequate escape rope either. The only way she could leave her tower for the time being was through reading. With her books, Belle voyaged everywhere as she sat in her reading chair.

When she was too tired or too despondent to read or practice her skills, Belle would sit in the window of the tower and look out over the forests and lands beyond Avonlea. Sometimes she could see strange golden fires glowering late at night, or bright fairy lights dancing in the fields. Early one morning, Belle noticed a colossal silhouette high in the grey clouds above the neighboring kingdom. She couldn’t make out what it was, but given the smoke that began to billow as the day wore on, and then the flames that turned what should have been a blue-black night sky to an unearthly umber, Belle knew it was some genre of monster. She set to deciphering what kind it could be; if fate brought it to Avonlea, Belle wanted to be prepared.

By the next dawn, she was certain it was either a dragon or an ifrit. Without more information, it was impossible to know. She fell asleep seated at the window, exhausted from staying up all night researching every book she had on dangerous creatures. Belle would get the extra information she wanted sooner than she expected.

Two days later, Belle awoke to the sensation of her former governess, Lady Potts, shaking her vigorously.

“Belle. Lady Belle, please wake up quickly!” Lady Potts said repeatedly. She was smiling at Belle.

“Has my father thrown you in here, too?”

Lady Potts shook her head. “No, no, you’re free. There’s going to be a feast, and you must be there. I’ve got to get you ready,” she said. “The whole kingdom’s in a tizzy.”

“About my imprisonment?” Belle asked, surprised. The king had surely forbidden any mention of what he’d done. She closed her eyes, making a quick prayer for mercy for whoever had gone against her father’s wishes.

“No…though everyone in the castle with any sway has argued with your father and his advisors on your behalf. Even the head of the guards. But you’ve been freed because your stepmother has not been sick these last nine months. She’s been with child, and early this morning, she gave birth to a bright baby boy.”

As if on cue, Belle began to hear bells ringing from the royal chapel. Joyous bells. Then the church bells of the entire kingdom seemed to be clamoring out as well, all to celebrate her new brother.

“I brought you a new dress,” Lady Potts said, pointing out the dark blue brocade dress trimmed in silver that lay draped over Belle’s reading chair.  She helped Belle out of her bed and over to the bath that had somehow been set up without waking her, either. “A great deal has happened while you were in the tower, Belle.”

Belle sank into the tub, relishing the ability to soak. “First tell me what’s happened in Snow White’s kingdom? I saw flames two days ago.”

“A dragon. No one knows where it came from, but it’s said to be monstrous. Several villages have been destroyed. Much of the kingdom has fled here to Avonlea or west to Mecspliquer. Snow White and her court are expected to arrive in hours.”

“That’s terrible,” Belle mumbled, deep in thought. A dragon! Her research had been correct.

She could handle a dragon. It had been Sir Livre’s favorite training exercise (he loved the irony of a damsel saving herself, he said), so she knew exactly what to do.

Lady Potts continued on in her updates, mostly normal things that had happened, that Belle had expected; a servant had run off to get married, Sir Livre was now training a nearby Count’s heir, and King Stefan had outlawed spinning wheels in his kingdom, so all the spinners in Avonlea were doing well, and that was helping bring in more taxes. Belle nodded through all of it, listening but not hearing anything startling. The spinning wheel thing was odd, but so was King Stefan.

“Belle, there’s something else.” Her governess’s voice grew serious. “I believe your father has been arranging your hand in marriage.”

That caught the princess’s attention.

“What?!”

“Several suitors have shown up over the past month. It’s been very obvious.”

“But I’m the heir to the kingdom! I can’t—oh no,” she said, the realization hitting her like a ton of books. “My baby brother is the new heir, isn’t he? Which means I’m just a bargaining chip now.” And a problematic one at that, Belle thought to herself.

Lady Potts bowed her head.

“Damn primogeniture!” Belle swore.

 

Later that afternoon, Belle greeted Snow White and her prince, Charming. She grilled them for details about the dragon.

“He’s got green wings, but the body is a rainbow of deep, glittering colors—scarlet, sapphire, emerald, grape. Eyes of fire, and it smells of ash,” Charming told her, giving her the best description he could. “Gargantuan.”

“It just showed up and started setting fire to everything,” Snow said sadly.

“For no reason?”

“Well it is a monster,” Snow pointed out. “I suppose it’s what it does.”

“In the last town it destroyed before we began to evacuate the kingdom, it also turned over the village’s entire emergency water supply,” Charming added. “Thankfully the water fell onto the fire and the dragon hurried into the forest. He thwarted his own destruction.”

“That’s fortunate.”

“I’m so glad the rumors of you being locked in the tower were untrue,” Snow piped up. Belle didn’t want to explain the rumors had been more than rumor, and ignored the comment. Acknowledging it, especially to an ally dependent on her father, was useless now.

“Which forest?”

“Cambrousse Grove.” Those woods lay to the south of both kingdoms, which meant it might still return; it had been coming from that direction when Belle had first seen it from afar over a day ago.

After gleaning as many details as she could, Belle took leave of Snow and Charming, so they could settle into their spaces and determine how to rule from afar and take back their kingdom once again. Belle had the beginnings of a plan now, and she had much to do if she wanted to set it in motion. She wanted to be able to leave at a moment’s notice if need be, but that meant a trip to the larder, to the armory, and several other places in the castle that she hadn’t seen for months.

 

Busy with her preparations, Belle avoided her family for the entire day until the feast that evening. The mood was tensely jubilant—everyone was happy about the new prince, and glad to see their princess for the first time in months. There were toasts to the new prince, gifts for him and the Queen. Belle’s father acted as though he had never had her locked away for months, and no one so much as alluded to it.

Everything was going about as well as could be hoped for until the King stood up. “And now, while we have spent this time feting my son, I would like to stop for a moment and toast my daughter, the Princess Belle, in congratulations on her impending betrothal to Sir Gaston, heir apparent of Mecspliquer.”

A flurry of whispers erupted, and it seemed as though everyone turned to see Belle’s reaction to the news. After a moment’s hesitation, raucous clapping followed, and as the king sat down, a dark-haired man seated opposite Belle stood up. He had the look of a pompous ass, because he was one. Belle had met Sir Gaston before, and he had not impressed her. He wasn’t smart, or kind, or even particularly skilled with a weapon; Belle had trained with swords and daggers longer than he had, in fact, and was far nimbler. Gaston was handsome, but Belle wasn’t shallow, so his looks were never going to be enough. Unfortunately, his father’s wealth and army had impressed her father. They’d impressed him even more than she had realized, if her father’s toast wasn’t some horrible joke.

“I, Sir Gaston, wish to thank his Majesty for the honor of his fair daughter’s hand, and I wish to thank my future fiancée for accepting my humble proposal.”

Not a joke, then. And how lovely that they’d just announced it without even asking her. Her, accept his proposal? Never.

Of course, her father knew she’d refuse Gaston, so he’d never given Belle the chance to reject the proposal. Of all the possible suitors she could think of, Gaston was the worst. Why did he have to be the richest?

 _That’s it_ , Belle decided. She would execute her plan tonight. Any delay could be disastrous. _For all I know, a wedding could be the finale of the festivities and celebrations they’ve planned over the next three days._ She forced a smile onto her face and raised her glass in response.

“To you, Sir Gaston, and to my father the king, I never imagined this could happen for me,” Belle said, smiling broadly, and to anyone who knew her well, falsely. “I pray the entire kingdom be as happy as I am for the future.” This she said with sincerity. None of them needed to know the future she was happy about did not include living in this castle, nor marrying Gaston.

Her toast was answered with thunderous applause and shouts of “here, here” and “to the happy couple!” Gaston beamed, and Belle’s father couldn’t wipe the smug look off of his face, satisfied that the imprisonment had pacified his headstrong daughter.

 

That night, while everyone was still gathered in the great hall celebrating, Belle saddled her horse Phillippe and rode south.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle finds the dragon...and love.

Rumplestiltskin was miserable. He felt feverish, always hot, and still hadn’t figured out how to keep the smoke out of his eyes. If it was instinct, that had not been part of the Evil Queen’s enchantment.

 _Foolish! So foolish_. He’d walked right into the trap the Evil Queen set for him, and then in his rage and confusion, he’d helped her attack others.  He didn’t know how to be a proper dragon. The extra limbs were particularly distressing. He kept banging his wings and his tail into things. The only bright spots in all of this had been knocking over the water in the last town so that it didn’t burn to the ground the way the others had, and seeing that solemn beauty in the tower far away as he flew from Regina’s clutches.

 _I never should’ve left the Dark Castle_ , he berated himself. _I knew better than to trust Regina. Of course there was no magic bean in that empty glen_. There never had been.

After the last village, Rumplestiltskin had found a cave large enough to hole up in. He would learn how this new enchanted body worked before chancing any more encounters with people. He knew what a razor-thin edge most peasants lived on, and didn’t relish destroying their homes. Now he owed the people of Snow White’s kingdom a debt for all the destruction he’d wrought, and Rumplestiltskin didn’t like owing anyone anything. Especially when he got nothing from it _. If the peasants had been hiding magic beans, well, then it would’ve been worth it._

Controlling the fire was the most important thing to figure out. Once he could do that, he could safely fly to his castle. There, he could find a remedy for his metamorphosis.

 _And then I can find out who the woman in the tower was_.

*****

Belle easily found the route the dragon had fled once daylight broke. There was a path of charred trees going south, toward the mountains. Using the burn marks as a guide, Belle trekked all day, venturing further from her home than she’d ever been. She didn’t dare stop to sleep for long, as she had no way of knowing when her absence would be discovered. Surely by that evenings’ feast, if not sooner. Lady Potts would cover for her in the morning. It was doubtful anyone would miss her weapons or the supplies she’d taken, but if someone noticed Phillippe was missing…

The second morning after her escape, she awoke early and continued tracking the dragon’s scorched trail. A few more hours brought Belle to the entrance of a cave. Her books had assured her that most dragons preferred to take up residence in caverns or other places made of stone and earth, which they couldn’t burn down on themselves. And Phillippe’s reaction cemented her suspicion; he was the jumpiest he’d ever been.

“So this is where the dragon is hiding himself,” Belle told Phillippe. “Don’t worry, I know how to deal with a dragon,” she said. Her horse was not reassured; he could smell the dragon nearby. Belle wasn’t so reassured herself, but she had always wanted an adventure. She tied Phillippe loosely to a nearby tree, using a knot that would eventually pull free in case she never exited the cave.

 _If I fail_ , she reasoned to herself, _at least I won’t have to marry Gaston_.

Belle lit a torch, drew her sword, and marched into the cave.

She expected it to be cool and possibly damp, as most caves were, but it was positively muggy when she walked in, and the air only felt swampier the further she trod. Smoke seemed to billow and roll out from the interior, making everything harder to see in an already dark cave. The smell of a campfire loomed in nostrils, unshakeable. Belle’s armor, light thought it was, only made things worse. Sweat began to trickle down her back, and her sword grip became less firm. The smoke was making it hard to breathe, and Belle held back a cough.

Ahead, something glittery shone through the murky haze. A pile of gemstones? There were ruby, topaz, dark amethyst and emerald hues, among others. Belle hadn’t realized that many gems existed in the earth waiting to be mined, let alone laying in a heap in a dark, steamy cavern two days’ ride from the castle she grew up in. She ventured closer, and the pile moved, startling Belle; she realized now it was not a mound of precious stones.

It was the dragon.

********

Some idiot had wandered into his cave.

Rumplestiltskin heard the whinny of the knight’s horse before the knight had even dismounted. The clang of the armor sounded lighter than he expected for a knight, but then he was new to this body and these ears, so he thought little of it. The voice sounded awfully high, too, as he overheard the knight reassure the horse. _Foolish young knight, most likely_. But then, there was a shortage of princesses these days, and Rumplestiltskin knew that a knight who wanted to move up in the world would see a defeating a dragon as the perfect way to stand out in a sea of suitors.

Such a shame for the knight that Rumplestiltskin was no ordinary dragon, and though he’d started out horrifically, stupidly clumsy, he’d managed to figure out how to coordinate his movements. Figured out the mechanism that regulated his dragon fire, even if he was still working out how to control his body temperature.

Also, he was gorgeous. All those shiny jewel tones, with wings the color of dark jade. The Evil Queen was fond of making ugly things appear beautiful, and this form was no exception.

The knight continued to advance, and Rumplestiltskin, being the Dark One that he was, tried to decide the best way to off the knight. He didn’t want to be overly cruel, but if he didn’t want to continue being disturbed, he still needed to send a clear message. Roasting was a little too on the nose. Decapitation was overkill. Maybe he would just scare the knight, and send him off with a warning.

 _Wait, can I even talk in this form_? Rumplestiltskin wondered. That Yaoguai Maleficent created couldn’t, but he was only a man enchanted, not the Dark One. Rumplestiltskin began to shift his position so he would face the knight, and as he turned, there the tiny armored man stood before him.

He tried to speak, but all that emerged was smoke. A huge, dark grey cloud of smoke, which quickly enveloped the knight so thoroughly, Rumplestiltskin could barely make out his shape.

Belle didn’t know how to react to the smoke. It was everywhere, smothering her. She couldn’t breathe. Sir Livre had never said anything about smoke. None of the books had mentioned it. Unable to get any air, she yanked off her helmet. She was gasping now, and tried to go back, out of the cave, but couldn’t see which way led in or out. Belle began to feel faint from the lack of oxygen, and she knew that these moments might be her last.

She regretted nothing, and ever resolute, Belle stumbled forward with her sword, determined to strike at least one blow before passing out. She knew exactly where to aim.

Rumplestiltskin was shocked when the knight tore off his—her helmet. It was the same beauty he’d seen in the tower days ago. He stood before her transfixed, smoke still billowing from his dragon mouth. The sword hurt when she stabbed him with it, but she was too shaky to aim it correctly, and it missed Rumplestiltskin’s vital organs.

Belle’s sword clanged sloppily to the floor of the cave, smearing dragonsblood where it fell, and she tumbled to the ground.

 

*****

When Belle awoke, she thought at first that she was back in the tower. The drapes were cerulean and gold, though, not green and black. The bed she lay upon was larger than the one she was used to, and she was still in her armor, not her dressing gown, though her boots had been removed and sat to one side of the bed. A tray brimming with food sat on a table by the window. Three different luxurious gowns lay draped over a decorative wooden dressing screen. They were green velvet, saffron satin, and a light blue and deep grey jacquard.

She was not in her tower. Nor her father’s castle.

“Oh god, please don’t let this be Gaston’s castle,” she whispered, with the sudden realization that it very well could be. She coughed, her throat raspy from all the dragonsmoke she’d inhaled…yesterday? Belle had no idea how much time had passed since her encounter with the dragon. She must have succeeded in slaying it, or else how could she still be alive? What had happened to Phillippe?

She needed answers, and she wouldn’t get them lying in this foreign bed. Soon she had on her boots. Before she opened the door, she noticed a letter affixed to it, meant for her.

_Courageous huntress,_

_Please rest in security. I do not know your name, but your bravery in facing the Evil Queen’s dragon has left me in awe. Your horse awaits you in the stables and will be well-cared for until you choose to take your leave of this castle. The gowns are yours; something else can be made if they aren’t to your taste. Please choose any room that suits you. I kindly implore you, dauntless dragon slayer, to stay as long as you wish. Your every need will be attended to, and you may go wherever in the castle you desire without being disturbed, though you may wish to avoid the basement, as it holds little of interest beyond the castle’s provisions._

Instead of a signature or a name, the letter bore a golden seal with a spinning wheel. Belle took that to mean she wasn’t in King Stefan’s castle. Nor was it the insignia of any noble family she knew of, including Gaston’s…now of course, she regretted not taking the time to memorize the insignia of distant kingdoms. She’d always assumed she’d have her book of heraldry available to consult.

This was an opportunity, though. Perhaps this was the kingdom the dragon had come from, and one of their knights had followed its trail and found them shortly after she slew it. Perhaps one of her father’s knights found her and took pity on her, knowing what a louse Sir Gaston was, and had spirited her off to another kingdom. It didn’t matter, except that now she had time to figure out what her next step would be. She wouldn’t have to go into hiding from her father and his men.

“Time to explore my new home for the time being,” she declared to anyone within earshot.

*****

After a few hours, Belle discerned that there was something odd about the castle: it appeared to be completely void of other people. There had to be servants—lunch and tea showed up on time, arriving out of nowhere as she found herself wandering through the halls. Yet she hadn’t seen or heard a single soul. She was used to the quiet after nine months of solitary confinement in the tower, so the lack of people didn’t bother her, exactly. It was just strange. Belle still had no idea who her benefactor was.

That night, she got some answers. Belle chose to sleep in a different room than she had awoken in. The room she chose was smaller, which made the fire (somehow lit by a quick, silent servant while her back was turned) warm the room to a much cozier temperature. She left the door to the antechamber open, still a little uneasy about smoke. She sat down in her bed, ready to read until her candle went too dim to continue, when a male voice spoke from outside her room.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to welcome you to the castle, my lady,” the voice apologized. “I won’t come in, but I wanted to apologize. I spend my days outside the castle, and usually do not return until well after dark. I hope my servants provided for all of your needs?”

“Yes…may I ask who my benefactor is? How did I come to be here?”

“I am the king of this castle, and lord of all the lands you can see from its windows. I found you lying in the dragon’s den, and my healers revived you. May I ask what you wish to be called?”

“My name is Belle.”

“Belle, you are my guest as long as you wish, and we are honored to have such a daring lady stay with us.”

Belle blushed.

“I’ve been informed you spent a great deal of time in the castle library,” the voice went on. “Did you find it to your liking?”

“Oh yes,” Belle replied. She put down her book, now eager to talk to this king. “There are so many volumes I never knew existed. Though I noticed a curious lack of tomes on magic and myth.”

Belle and the king talked well into the night, even after her candle went dark. He stayed outside her door the entire time, careful not to intrude on her virtue. They had many interests in common. Eventually, the king took his leave, and Belle fell into a sound sleep. 

The next morning, a book on magical enchantments had been placed upon the tray that held her breakfast. A fourth gown, this one simple, made of pale blue linen, lay next to the other three dresses. Belle spent that day as she had the day before, and that night, the king again came by to speak to her and find out how her day had been. They spoke of sword-fighting and javelins for much of the night, discussing their varied trials and triumphs.

The third morning, a silvery sword wrought with intricate swirls and jewels around the hilt rested against her breakfast chair. That night, they talked about rumors of the Dark One. Another new dress (white silk with lace) appeared that morning. The night after that, she told him about her imprisonment in the tower. Riding boots, a riding habit, and a cloak were laid out for her the morning after, along with a note urging her to not stay shut up inside the castle each day unless it was her desire. She could ride Phillippe or any other horse in the stable.

The days and nights continued in a similar manner for weeks. Belle spent her days reading and honing her skills, or sometimes riding Phillippe through the fields adjoining the castle. If she wanted to have a picnic lunch, she had only to pop into the kitchen and say as much to the empty room, and a basket would be waiting for her within minutes. When she retired for the evening, Belle and the king would talk well past midnight, sometimes about her interests, sometimes his, sometimes about the many interests they had in common. He assured her that the servants were simply shy, and that was why she never saw them.

As the weeks turned into months, Belle realized she was falling in love. She also realized that while she felt she truly knew the king, she didn’t even know what he looked like. She didn’t even know his name. Not that it mattered when they shared so much, and had so much in common. Belle considered waiting for the king to speak first, but as she rode Phillippe back to the stable late one afternoon, she noticed one of Snow White’s messenger birds. Once Snow knew where she was, Belle’s father would know.

That evening, Belle confessed her feelings.

“Please, come into the light,” Belle asked her patron as he stayed just outside her door. “It doesn’t matter what you look like, I’ll love you regardless. You could be a hunchback with no teeth or worse, and I won’t care.”

The king did not make himself seen. “I love you more than words can express, Belle. If you could only wait another three months, we can be married.”

“I don’t want to wait three months to marry you,” Belle said. She explained what she had seen that afternoon.

“If we marry, you must agree not to see me for another three months,” the king insisted. “In three months’ time, you may look into my face, but not a day before.”

Belle acknowledged this was a strange stipulation, but she didn’t care. She agreed. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marriage isn't always what we expect, and that's certainly true for Belle.

They were married the next evening, and Belle moved to the royal bedchambers, which were massive. The ceilings were several stories high, but despite the immense size of the room and the comparatively tiny fireplace, it was never cold.

Now the king no longer stayed outside the room at night, but no more candles appeared in the candelabra next to the bed anymore. The drapes were pulled shut every night. Their bed was chaste, and Belle’s husband was always gone by morning, but he returned every night as he had before. Even without kisses from her husband, Belle was happy, and though she counted down the days until she could finally see him, the man who had made her so happy by simply letting her be who she was, she had no trouble waiting. He had promised that after that day arrived, they would be together in all the ways a husband and wife should. Nor would she have to reside at the castle as she had; he would take her with him on his travels, and they would face any challenge as equals.

Two days before the three months were up, Belle was out riding Phillippe when she saw a troop of knights approach under Avonlea’s banner. She quickly rode for the castle, not even stopping to put Phillippe in the stables. One of the unseen servants would ensure he made it back.

When the knights reached the castle, Belle’s father moved his steed to the front. “Belle, I know you’re hiding here,” he shouted. “Come out so I can take you home.”

Belle opened one of the upper windows to speak to her father. “This is my home now,” she said. “I’ve married the lord of this castle, king of these lands, and I am his queen. Please Father, come in and sit at our dining table as our guest before you return home, but only if you can accept I will not be leaving with you.” The gate to the castle opened, and the King and knights of Avonlea rode in.

“You married without my permission?” Belle’s father demanded as she came down the stairs.

“You accepted a proposal without my permission,” Belle retorted. “This is my land you’re in, Father. My husband and I want to welcome you, but please remember you’re a guest in our home.”

The king opened his mouth, then thought better of what he was going to say and shut it. Behind him, the knights gave nodding approvals. Oddly, she didn’t recognize any of them, but it had been awhile since she’d seen any of them, even before she fled the castle. She was mildly surprised not to see Sir Livre in their company, but decided not to mention it; he was surely busy with his new charge. Belle led them all to her grand dining hall, the table of which was somehow already laden with sumptuous ham, racks of lamb, roast chickens and turkey, cakes, fruits, and other victuals. Places had been set for everyone present.

Between bites, Belle asked after her little brother, and the king and the knights filled her in. The dragon had never reappeared, and Snow and her people were once more back in their kingdom. Her father was uncharacteristically chipper. Once the knights had eaten their fill, they were eager to get back to their horses and go home. It had taken a full month’s ride to reach Belle’s land, and they wanted to get back before winter took hold.

“How do you keep your castle so warm?” her father marveled. “I haven’t felt a single draft.”

“I think it’s the design.”

“I should like to meet this husband of yours before I leave.”

“He won’t be back until after nightfall.”

“Tell me about him, then. I’ve ruled Avonlea for most of my life, and I’d never heard of this land until Snow’s sparrow told us of it. What is your king like?”

Belle began to explain her and her husband’s many common interests, his kindness, his knowledge, but her father stopped her. “No, Belle, I mean, what does he look like? Where is his family from?”

Belle told her father she didn’t know.

“How can you not know? You married him! It’s not as though you could marry someone and never see their face or meet their family.”

Belle tried to explain that what he looked like or where her husband came from didn’t matter to her, but her father shook his head and wouldn’t listen.

“Foolish girl. I knew you were stubborn and mannish, but I thought you at least had a smart head on your shoulders. You could be married to a monster. He could be fattening you up for a meal, or a ghoulish sacrifice, or anything. You can’t trust what you can’t see with your own eyes, Belle.”

“Get out,” Belle said through gritted teeth. “Get out of my kingdom, Father. Take your men and never return.”

“I’ll leave, but something is deeply wrong here, Belle, and you know it. Your husband may have pretty words and pretty gifts for you, but demons are also capable of the same, and they only come out at night.” He walked out of the castle and took off with his knights.

While she watched them ride off, Belle tried not to let her father’s insidious words take root, but as evening approached, she grew more and more troubled. Her father was not a good man, true, but he wasn’t ignorant of danger.

That night, Belle’s husband came to their bedchamber as he always did.

“Must I really wait two more nights before I can see you?” Belle asked, hoping her husband would yield to her eagerness, but he did not.

“Soon, my love.” He stroked her hair as she fell asleep.

Belle spent the entirety of the next day trying to distract herself, while simultaneously pushing back the unlikely fear that this might be her last day. That night, they didn’t talk for long before going to sleep. They were both apprehensive about the morning.

Around midnight, Belle awoke, and at last the temptation to see her husband’s face was more than she could bear. She found the stub of an old candle in her dressing gown pocket ( _how had it gotten there?),_ and lit it with an ember from the fireplace. She held up the candle, and gasped at what she saw.

It was the dragon Belle thought she had slain nearly a year ago.

Her gasp awoke the dragon, and her husband’s voice cried “I had only hours left!”

“How…how…” Belle was speechless. To her horror, her father had been right. Her husband was a monster.

“The Evil Queen enchanted me over a year ago,” Belle’s husband,  Rumplestiltskin explained. “But I still love you, though my curse may last forever.”

Belle didn’t wait for any further explanation or proclamations of love. She threw a coat over her dressing gown and dashed for the stables where Phillippe waited. The invisible servants had him saddled and ready, and she rode haphazardly into the forest, away from the castle. Belle didn’t pay attention to where she was going, as long as she escaped from the dragon. _How did this even happen?_ She’d been fooled this entire time. _Our marriage must have been some horrible revenge to punish me for trying to kill him._

In Belle’s haste to escape, she failed to notice when she reached the Evil Queen’s lands, and she had no idea Regina had been waiting for this day. For it hadn’t been her father who had visited the castle, but Regina in disguise. Regina knew that as someone who had grown to love Rumplestiltskin, Belle was the only one who could lift his enchantment. Regina was determined to keep that from happening, and soon seized Belle and threw her into the Dark Palace’s dungeons, but not before several of her huntsmen lost fingers, hands, even an ear while trying to imprison her. Belle had kept her wits (and her saddle daggers) about her and fought back, though once the Evil Queen brought magic into the mix, there was little Belle could do to stop her.

Unlike her tower enclosure, this imprisonment had nothing pleasant about it. No books, no window, certainly no swords or even a sharp stick. Belle tested the cell for days, looking for weaknesses, but there were none. All she could do was sit, and contemplate how she’d wound up in this place. She began to regret fleeing before letting the dragon explain, especially after Regina confirmed that she’d imprisoned Belle to punish the dragon.

Meanwhile, Rumplestiltskin despaired. He’d been unable to reveal his true form to Belle after saving her from smoke inhalation, but the curse had almost worn off until he was hit with the force of Belle’s shock and feelings of betrayal.

 _It had to be another trick pulled by Regina_ —Belle had never cared what he looked like, and had been happy to wait, until right before. _Somehow, the Evil Queen got to Belle_ ,” he realized. Now he had lost his chance at ending the enchantment the easy way. Not that the enchantment was the worst thing to happen to him now—he’d lost Belle. Rumplestiltskin never understood why or how she’d come to love him, and now he never would, for he was positive she now despised him. He would let her go because he couldn’t face losing that love, couldn’t face her hatred, but surely she hated him. She’d tried to kill him when they first met.

He wondered now if he should’ve let her. _It would have been less painful than this is._

Days passed, then a month. Any day, he expected hunting parties from Avonlea or even Mecspliquer. When a second month passed with no invaders, he began to wonder if Belle was okay. When a third month passed and he got word from his sources that Belle had never arrived in her homeland, nor had she shown up anywhere else, Rumplestiltskin knew to worry. Then Phillippe showed up, riderless.

He ventured to the edge of his kingdom, where it abutted Regina’s, and waited. Soon he caught a huntsman, and after putting his feet to the fire (being a dragon wasn’t all bad), he told Rumplestiltskin what he needed to know: Belle was locked up in Regina’s dungeon.

Rumplestiltskin roared in anger upon hearing this, and set the forest on fire anew. The fires followed him all the way to the Dark Palace, and then he did something the Evil Queen assumed was impossible: Rumplestiltskin broke into the dungeon. All her magical spells to fend off intruders failed, possibly because of the way her magic was tied to his enchantment. _All magic comes with a price_ , he thought sagely.

Carefully, carefully, Rumplestiltskin reached his dragon arm into the cells, pulling prisoners from them one and two at a time. Finally he found Belle.

“You don’t have to go with me, Belle. I know you don’t love me the way I still love you, but you don’t belong here, either,” he told her. “Let me free you.” She allowed him to pick her up, out of her prison.

“I tried to kill you!” Belle shouted back as he set her down outside the Dark Palace. “How can you still love me?!”

“You thought I was a dragon.”

“…that’s because you ARE a dragon!”

“Regina enchanted me. I’m not really a dragon. But I am the Dark One.”

“Really?” Belle had read about the Dark One. Her husband didn’t seem so dark. Then again, she had missed the whole dragon thing for almost a year, so maybe what she thought were good observation skills needed a little fine-tuning.

Rumplestiltskin nodded, which was a strange movement for a dragon, but it got the point across. “Phillippe ran back to my stables. I can take you to him if you like, and you can go wherever you want after that. You don’t have to stay with me. You’re free.”

Belle motioned for Rumplestiltskin to lift her up to his eye level. “Thank you for saving me,” she said, then leaned forward and kissed his scaly face. The whole time they’d been married, she’d never kissed him. He’d never let her. If he had, they might have avoided most of the mess they’d just gone through, because that kiss rippled throughout the kingdoms. The enchantment lifted, and suddenly Belle was on the ground, staring into the dark eyes of her true love, the Dark One.

“Let’s go home, husband.”

“I should probably have told you my name is Rumplestiltskin.”

“It seems like there’s a lot you should have told me, Dark One,” Belle said wryly. “But don’t worry. We’ve got a whole lifetime for it.”


End file.
